


Lost on Campus

by cherrynoel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-09-27 06:22:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9980192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherrynoel/pseuds/cherrynoel
Summary: Dean is just trying to visit his brother, but damn if this college campus isn't confusing as shit.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I literally found this on my laptop from like two years ago and have no memory of writing it whatsoever. Thought I would post it anyway. I really think I could turn this one into a full fic, let me know what you think!

Dean Winchester was lost.

It wasn’t something that the man was used to. He drove all over the country, kicking ass and…well, _forgetting_ names. It was practically his job to know where he was going at all times.

But on a fucking _college campus_? There were way too many buildings, way too many walkways, and he just passed by a Starbucks. On a _campus_. There was a line so long that people would probably be able to read the textbooks in their heavy as shit backpacks before they ordered.

He stopped in the middle of the walkway, people bumping into him, but he didn’t give a shit. _I am here for Sammy._ He told himself. _Just ignore the assholes, pretend you know what you’re doing, and people will get the hell out of your way_. He had been wandering around for a half hour trying to find his little brother’s dorm room, but apparently there were about ten different buildings that housed students on this freaking property and he had no idea which one was the one he needed. Sam, of course, was too busy to text him back and he didn’t want to keep looking like an idiot here.

He felt his phone buzz in his pocket and tried not to make it seem like he’d been waiting for it to do that _all day_ as he reached in to pull it out. The text message from his brother enclosed not only the name of his dorm room, but also told him if he just asked someone they would tell him where to go.

“Yeah, Sam, like I ask for directions.” Dean said under his breath. He looked around for a moment, glancing at the buildings, when he saw him.

He was wearing a black suit, obviously it wasn’t made for him, and the guy looked uncomfortable as hell. In fact, he looked almost as lost as Dean was, and that was saying something. The paper in his hand kept folding in the wind, and if Dean didn’t understand the feeling, he would have laughed at how hard the guy kept using his other hand, briefcase be damned, to hold it steady. He would have laughed at how his hair looked so out of place, like he had gotten out of bed and not even bothered to check it. Parts of it were sticking up on every side, and Dean really wanted to take pity on the guy and smooth it down for him. He would have laughed at the fact that the guy was not only holding a briefcase with the non-papered hand, but also a trench coat, and the coat kept dragging the ground. If it hadn’t been raining, that part would have been downright hilarious.

But Dean didn’t laugh. He just watched him. And when the guy stopped all of a sudden, like he felt someone watching him, Dean knew he should walk away, turn around and forget all about it, but he was locked in place as those piercing blue eyes, like being lost staring at the sky, like being pulled out into the ocean, locked onto his. His heart was beating because he had been caught red-handed staring at the guy, but he did what he always did. _Pretend you know what you’re doing._

He kept eye contact as he made his way through the crowd of students and stopped in front of him. “You look as lost as I do,” Dean said, offering a hand. “Need some help?”

The guy looked down at Dean’s hand, then looked at his own, starting to get flustered. “Oh! Uh, I would shake your hand, but mine are kind of…” He shrugged his shoulders, as if to say _it should be obvious_.

Dean looked down and mentally slapped himself, pulling his hand back fast and shoving it in his jacket pocket. Of course. He had just been fixated on those hands, he should have recognized the fact that he was _being a total idiot_ and not tried to shake the guy’s hand. Also, he couldn’t keep calling the guy “the guy” in his head, he needed a name. “I’m Dean.”

The smile stretched across the stranger’s face as he answered. “My name’s Castiel. I just started here and I feel completely out of place already.” He tore his eyes away from Dean’s, begrudgingly, as he looked back down at his map. “I’m just trying to find Carrington Hall? I am supposed to go there to fill out some paperwork.”

The guy— _Castiel_ , Dean reminded himself—looked so confused, like a puppy, that it made Dean smile at how adorable the guy was. “Well, you’re one step ahead of me, Castiel. I don’t even have a map,” he reached out a hand, as a question. “But I am really good at reading them if you want some help.”


End file.
